The Last Plane Home
by L. E. Wigman
Summary: The Heroes fly back to England at the end of WWII and Newkirk gets a glimpse of all he'd missed.


Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to _Hogan's Heroes_. I'm just an amateur writer using the characters for my own enjoyment and practice.

AN: I dunno why this scene ended up stuck in my head, nor why I feel the need to post it. But I do, so I hope you'll enjoy reading. Cheers!

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Together they sat in the hold of the plane as it jostled them about. Despite their discomfort, they couldn't find a reason to complain. All five Heroes had made it through the Liberation and to the end of the War. They were finally leaving Germany for good and this made even the normally grouchy, Newkirk grin like a fool.

In the months leading up to the liberation of Camp 13, he'd grown quiet and sullen. It was as if the thought of being that close to freedom was more than he could bear. In the darkest moments of his internment, he'd never dared to imagine this trip let alone hope for it. Now, though, all he felt was joy. Pure, unadulterated joy. He'd survived years of Nazi mistreatment and malnutrition - countless missions and close calls - but at long last he was headed home.

Carter was chattering away beside him, completely unaware - or perhaps unconcerned - with Newkirk's lack of engagement. He chatted about the back pay he was going to get and how excited the folks back in Bull Frog would be to see him. Oh, and did Colonel Hogan think it would be long before they would head stateside?

LeBeau watched his friends with a quiet, content smile on his face. His eyes held the same passion that had kept him going since 1940 - the fall of Paris… His memories drifted back to that wonderful city. The lights glowing softly while the spring flowers' fragrance melded with the sumptuous aroma of French cuisine to create the perfect landscape. Something in the back of his mind - the sharp jolt of realism - told him that the city would not be as he remembered. That it would take hard work and every ounce of the passion he had left to restore her in full, but for now the memory was enough.

Baker had his eyes closed, so the others thought he was asleep. He listened to Carter's ramblings, wishing he could record every minute of them. Their laughter. Their stories. Every moment tucked away for the future. He thought of the friend that wasn't with them - the man he'd replaced. If only he were there, then the picture would be complete - the team would _all_ be headed home. He smiled and pushed the sadness away. Why spoil that which should be merry?

"I tell you, boy," Carter said, running his fingers absently along the strap of his duffel bag. "When I get back home, the first thing I'm gonna buy is a tall, ice-cold root beer! How about you, Newkirk?"

"Ale's on my dance card," was the cheery reply. "Nice and warm."

Hogan wrinkled his nose, but remained quiet. He had thoughts of his own to attend. He still had a massive workload ahead of him. The debrief alone would take weeks, maybe even a month. The paperwork wouldn't leave him much time either. He knew it would be a long while until he was able to kick back with the beverage of his choice.

"I suppose we'll have to stay on base," Carter said. His mood dampened a little, but he quickly moved on to another topic. "No matter. I kept a deck of cards from camp. We can play gin."

Newkirk scoffed, "then I can win the other half of your back pay."

"I'll win it back," Carter said, the grin never left his face. "I know all your tricks, so you'll have to play fair!"

"Tricks?!" Newkirk put on his best shocked face. "I'm appalled that you'd say such things."

One of the plane's crewmen crossed over toward them and leaned into Hogan. "Pardon me, sir, but the pilot says we're getting ready to land."

Newkirk scrambled over to the window and blinked. He'd been longing to see his homeland, and honestly was a bit peeved that no one had said anything sooner. He could have seen the cliffs of Dover. He saw the base below. The towers that would guided them in. The runway. All that English soil just waiting for him.

"Newkirk," Hogan yelled. He, like the others, had braced themselves for the landing. Newkirk crawled back and braced himself.

The landing was smooth and as soon as the crew gave the clear sign, Newkirk headed for the exit. He jumped down, his own bag long forgotten as he breathed in the air. It smelled better somehow cleaner than in Germany. The Summer breeze that blew across his face brought a deep sense of happiness, contentment, and relief. Home. Such a short, simple word; yet in it, was everything he loved.

"Well, what took you so long?"

Newkirk spun at the voice. He was grinning as he sought the owner, but when he saw her his jaw dropped. The voice belonged to his little Mavis, but this bird - ahem - woman was grown. She was lovely. Her hair, instead of the usual braids, was pulled back into a bun. Her uniform was clean and sharp. Everything about her was different. He felt a twinge of something he couldn't name. A feeling of loss. What else had changed? How much of their lives had he missed? How many of his siblings had completely grown up while he was gone?

"I'll be having a hug now," she said, propping her hand on her hip. She waited, but he just stared at her. She tilted her head and asked, "where are you? Away with the fairies?"

In a moment, he'd closed the gap and scooped her into a bear hug.

Behind him, Carter and LeBeau stood appraising the young woman. "Wouldn't you just know that he'd have a girl waiting for him?" Carter said.

Baker smirked, "I don't think it's like that."

Carter shot him a questioning look and LeBeau finally spoke, "she has the same chin as Pierre."

"I'd lay money that's Mavis," Hogan said, coming up behind them.

"But she's supposed to be a kid!" he exclaimed. Carter's hung open as he began to stutter. "She's… she's..."

"Tres jolie," LeBeau supplied.

"Yeah," Carter breathed.

Newkirk pulled away from the hug and cleared the emotion from his throat. He looked over at his friends and took Mav's hand. "Come on," he said. "I have some blokes I want you to meet."

"Guv, this here is me sister, Mavis." He held her out like a prize, his face full of pride. "This is the Colonel."

Hogan smiled and tipped his worn crush cap, "Miss Newkirk."

Mavis returned the smile and excepted his hand, which he gave a gentle shake. Newkirk moved on to Baker, who nodded, and then LeBeau. "This is Louis LeBeau."

"Enchante, mademoiselle."

Mavis giggled as he kissed the top of her hand. Newkirk frowned and shot his friend a glare. Carter pulled his cap from his head and smoothed his hair into place. Mavis turned her gaze to him and her hazel eyes twinkled. "That must make you Andrew," she said, sweetly.

"Oh, yes, ma'am," Carter grinned. He stuck his hand out, then realized he was still wearing his gloves. He pulled his hand back and removed the gloves, mumbling a quick apology. "I sure am pleased to meet you," he said.

"Petey's told me so much about all of you," Mavis said to them all, though her eyes never left Carter's face. "I feel like I know you."

LeBeau's eyebrows shot up, "Petey?"

Newkirk turned a lovely shade of red as Mavis laughed. "I suppose he doesn't use that much anymore," she said.

"No, ma'am," Carter said quickly. "We just call him Newkirk, or Peter."

She smiled again. "You can call me Mavis, or Mav," she said, "everyone does."

"Thank you, ma'am… uh, Mavis… uh, Mav... ma'am."

Newkirk spoke up before Carter could stumble around any more. "Me family's at home waiting for me," he said. He turned hopeful eyes onto the Colonel. "Can I go?"

"Of course, I'll speak to the General."

Mavis finally pulled her attention away from Carter long enough to say, "you're all welcome to come. Mam would love to meet you all."

"Perhaps another time," Hogan said. "We still need to debrief."

Mavis nodded while Peter grabbed his duffle, which Carter had removed from the plane. They said good-bye before walking off the airfield arm-in-arm. Carter watched them with a twinge of envy.

"I don't see why he gets to have all the fun," he muttered as Hogan lead them toward the waiting jeep. Hogan sat in the seat, gesturing the rest of them to the back.

Baker climbed into the back of the vehicle and laughed. "We will have plenty of time to visit Peter's family. It'll be good for them to have some family time alone."

"Besides," LeBeau added, settling in beside them. "I don't think Pierre appreciates us admiring his little sister."

Carter flushed. "I wasn't admiring," he defended. "I just thought she was nice. And sweet. And pretty."

They laughed and Hogan ordered the driver to go. They had a long day ahead of them, full of reports and shop talk. The best he could hope for was a decent cup of coffee. But, he thought with a smile, at least one of them would be having the time of his life.

THE END


End file.
